Humor

I did something the nuns who taught me would definitely NOT approve of me doing.

OK, to be honest, there’s quite a few things the nuns would not approve of, however, I am referring to one thing in particular at the moment.

When I was young, I wanted to be a nun. I think the part that interested me was that dressed in a habit, I could look like a bride every day! (Clearly, the concepts of chastity and poverty hadn’t entered my mind yet.) I was also intrigued by paranormal and psychic things – things the nuns didn’t particularly embrace – actually frowned upon quite a lot.

I found this prowling around the internet and HAD to share. I’m not sure who to credit for it, but it’s hysterical and TRUE! HAPPY MEMORIAL DAY!!!

We are about to enter the summer and BBQ season. Therefore it is important to refresh your memory on the etiquette of this sublime outdoor cooking activity, as it’s the only type of cooking a ‘real’ man will do, probably because there is an element of danger involved.

When a man volunteers to do the BBQ the following chain of events are put into motion:

Like this:

I found this as I was looking for something entirely different online…I’m not sure who to thank for it – but it sure made me laugh outloud and I wanted to share!

“A Doctor was addressing a large audience in Tampa . ‘The material we put into our stomachs is enough to have killed most of us sitting here, years ago.. Red meat is awful. Soft drinks corrode your stomach lining. Chinese food is loaded with MSG. High fat diets can be disastrous, and none of us realizes the long-term harm caused by the germs in our drinking water. However, there is one thing that is the most dangerous of all and we all have eaten, or will eat it. Can anyone here tell me what food it is that causes the most grief and suffering for years after eating it?’

After several seconds of quiet, a 75-year-old man in the front row raised his hand, and softly said, ‘Wedding Cake.’”

Another fantastic summer has slipped through my fingers – no matter how hard I tried to hold onto it. Delicious memories sprinkled heavily with fabulous foods and drinks and most of all, laughter. LOTS of laughter.

Now, as the hot sunshine begins it’s sexy romance with the harbingers of winter, my house is filled with the heady scent of pumpkin spice potpourri, and Chapter 3 (titled – Fall), of 2012 is comfortably settling in. Spritzes of autumnal colors are appearing in patches against the lush green background, and crispness has certainly settled into these September nights. Our featherbeds and comforters are piled high on our beds, which the girls can’t stop bouncing on.

In the shadowy corners of our rooms, ghosts are sneaking in more frequent visits – eerily beckoning visitors to visit “Mommy’s Bloody Mary”.

I’ve been dragging my feet lately regarding our move to either the Cape or Myrtle Beach. And the reason is the weather.

Putting aside the slight drought, it’s been gorgeous just about every single day. Closing your eyes and sipping a cool drink is a lot easier than poring over thousands of houses. Dreaming of running in slow motion on the beach and falling, giggling, in the sand, in the arms of that really good looking guy who jogs around the Myrtle Beach boardwalk in the mornings dressed in blue and white, is a lot more relaxing than thinking about packing and moving trucks and unpacking.

And, I’m not quite done saying my good-byes yet. I haven’t even started. The more I close my eyes as I float in my pool…

Back when he was alive, I would spend countless hours sitting down there with him. The soft red couch he had is still there and feels familiar to my skin as I tuck my legs under myself and close my eyes. This room is where I go to do serious thinking – it’s quiet and calming and all mindblocks vanish as soon as I close the heavy, carved mahogany door behind me.

The air is cool in an unusual way for late June in upstate New York, and a soft breeze moves around the smell of the developing chemicals – stored in neat rows behind a dark curtain to keep them safe from light – and it heightens my memories even more.

I started doing it on vacation. I really didn’t think I would start doing it so soon, but apparently, I am weak… and it felt so good. That surge of satisfaction knowing I was going to make someone very, very happy ribboned itself around my body and hugged me with the sensation one gets when one has a juicy secret.

This morning was a “double scoop of vanilla ice cream in my bowl of coffee” type of morning.

It’s Memorial Day weekend, it’s gorgeous out, and all five of my daughters are sleeping in late. The pool, which I originally did not plan on opening, is indeed being opened this weekend despite our upcoming move – much to the girls’ delight.

And, to mix things up a bit out there, I decided to buy the girls an “icicle tent” to set up as a “clubhouse”.